Til The End Of The Line
by GirlWhoWaited
Summary: Following the events of Civil War, the Avengers are in dire need of a little team building. Enter Camille and Tiffany Mackenzi, Coulson's freshly hired "Avengers management team." Social activist Tiffany quickly becomes the glue holding Steve and Bucky together, but icy publicist Camille can't seem to get along with, well, anyone. What secrets does she have up her sleeve?


"I'm with you…

The freshly hired Avengers Management Team shared one apartment and one main goal: a modest industrial Bohemian flat where they bridged the gap between heroes and humanity.

A Columbia doctoral candidate yet untouched by the supernatural, Camille Mackenzi was the cure for the unconnected. Though small and unassuming, her carefully chosen words could shoot a media personality from zero to hero and straight back before he could say _hello._ A ticking time bomb herself, Camille was designed for damage control. They say that she singlehandedly brought Edward Snowden back from the dead, just before her morning mocha (tall, soy, light ice, no whip).

Tiffany Mackenzi, international sweetheart, the hands that held the world together, stood by her sister's side. Well-seasoned by travel and trials, this NYU valedictorian could pick up a shattered community as if it were a child abandoned by its national mother and nurse it back to perfect health. Tiffany was the darling of the United Nations. Who do you think was sent in as the first responder to the crisis in Sokovia? Who held things together for King T'Challa in the wake of his father's untimely demise? Who would repair the cracks in the thin ice that the Earth's Mightiest Heroes now stood upon?

Tiffany Mackenzi and Camille Mackenzi were Phil Coulson's only answer to the question that the world could not stop asking: What happens next?

"Hello, boys!"

Wanda Maximoff coughed into her fist as Director Coulson followed the sunlight into the Avengers Compound bright and early one late May morning. "And ladies!" Wanda nodded, her nude lips curling up.

The SHIELD director helped himself to a cup of coffee, passing neon mugs to the pair of striking women who trailed after him. The one in a black trenchcoat shook her head, pushing back her sunglasses with the edge of a plastic Starbucks cup.

Before Wanda could question the director and his uncharacteristic choice of company, the remainder of her teammates trailed into the kitchen. "Phil! What have we got here?" Tony Stark exclaimed, nodding his exuberant approval of Coulson's latest cronies. He swaggered over to them, greeting the sunglasses one with a lingering hug. The other, hippie-ish one shied away.

"Mr. Stark," the director began, "meet your new boss."

Tony's face froze halfway between a joke and a gulp. "Which one?"

"Both of them." Setting down his coffee, Coulson opened his arms as if to present his strange new friends. "Everyone, I would like for you to meet Tiffany Mackenzi and Camille Mackenzi, your new management team."

"Ms. Mackenzi, how wonderful it is to see you again." T'Challa was the first to respond, bowing his head like the king he was. He kissed Tiffany's hand with the respect of a humbled man. "I must thank you again for your assistance in my country's time of greatest need."

The woman in a long, orange skirt smiled, her cheeks turning a contrasting shade of red. "It was my pleasure, Your Highness."

The Vision breezed through Wanda with a whispered "Pardon me," and he greeted the other woman in a mimicry of the Black Panther. "How wonderful to meet you, Ms. Mackenzi."

"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Vision," Camille nodded. "Now, shall we get to work?" She glanced around, the planet-sized purse on her arm sinking towards the ground. "Where is Captain America?"

"Captain America is currently...MIA," Phil Coulson sighed sadly. "But for now- Stark, Barton, Lang- take their bags to the new apartment. I'll be checking in soon." With a quick nod to each of the Mackenzi sisters, the director was gone as quickly as he'd arrived.

Wanda crossed her arms. Flashing back to the straight jacket she'd been stuck in until the (not so) MIA Captain America freed her, along with the rest of the Avengers, Wanda put her hands on her hips instead. "So, what are you in for?"

"Being too good at what we do," Camille smirked, directing her impromptu move-in crew with a complicated series of hand gestures.

"And what exactly is that you do?" Wanda narrowed her eyes, turning her attention to Tiffany.

"Well, she's in media," Tiffany answered, the ends of her head chain jingling against her dangling earrings. "Journalism, TV, social media- you know." She ran her fingers through the ends of her unbelievably long braid. "And I do more of the humanitarian stuff. I've worked with the UN, with several major charities, and in the mission field."

Wanda nodded. "So, what are you here to do for us?"

"They're here to keep us in line," Natasha Romanoff scowled, crossing her arms as she stood in front of Wanda like a protective wall.

The sisters exchanged a quick look, and then Camille replied, "No, we're here to make your lives better. To make your team better. To make SHIELD better in the eyes of the public."

"And to change the way you handle situations that call for a great amount of destruction," Tiffany added. "Namely, Sokovia."

Wanda nodded. She still held resentment against Tony Stark for what he'd done to her country. "Welcome to the Avengers."

"I think our first order of business should be locating and returning Captain Rogers," Camille stated as soon as Tiffany closed the door behind their scattering charges.

Tiffany's lips parted in a wide smile, laughter holding itself back behind her lovely green eyes. "I thought you prefered Barnes."

Camille rolled her eyes. "No, for you."

"Whatever!" Tiffany threw a pillow at her sister, the tassels swinging all the way.

"Look at this place!" Camille exclaimed, shoving her face into the purple throw pillow to capture a squeal. Returning to her "business as usual" facade, she continued, "What I meant was that we need to, well, reassemble the Avengers. Rogers will probably be the easiest to find. We locate him, promise to add Barnes to the team, and BAM! This team has leadership again.

"Then, we find Dr. Banner. The Jolly Green Giant can't hide forever. I already have a team out looking."

"How do you already have a team out looking for Banner?" Tiffany interjected. "We just got hired yesterday!"

Camille shrugged. "I moved some funds around in my investments so that a group of British researchers could further explore the polar-"

"Oh my gosh!" Tiffany laughed. "You bought Boaty McBoatface, didn't you?"

Camille nodded. "I wanted to make sure the name lived on. Anyhow, I had some of their equipment set to search for sunken ships and, more specifically, large areas of heat. That should locate Banner pretty quickly."

"And what are we doing about Captain America?" Tiffany dared.

"You are meeting him for coffee." Camille typed a half dozen furious messages into her cellphone. "Starbucks on Third Ave, tomorrow at eight. Bring me back a mocha?"

"Wait, what?" Tiffany shook her head, setting up a row of trinkets along the edge of the mantel. "How am I meeting Captain MIA-rica for coffee in the morning?"

With a sly smile, Camille waved a cheaply made cellphone in her sister's direction. "Remember this?"

"Why are you carrying around our first cellphone?" Tiffany cringed at the sight of the ridiculously simple TracFone.

"I'm not," Camille grinned. "Remember when we first got in, and Stark hugged me?"

Tiffany nodded, silently hoping that her sister hadn't swiped a wallet (again).

"Well, I swiped _this_ from his pocket," Camille explained, lowering her voice to no more than a whisper. "And I've been looking through it, and it has one contact, and no saved messages, but a New York area code- specifically, Brooklyn. I know because I just used it to text myself a second ago. Anyhow, it's called a burner phone, like they use in organized crime-"

"Camille, please don't go there again." Tiffany snatched the phone away and extinguished the wicked flame in her sister's eyes. "And this phone leads us to Captain America?"

"Who else?" Camille held out her hand for the phone, and Tiffany returned it. "Stark missed a call at 7:43 a.m.- that's right after we came in. I heard it vibrate, even though I'd just watch him set his cellphone on the counter. So, I texted the number, and-"

"And you pretended to be Tony Stark in dire need of Captain Rogers' assistance, just so you could set up a meeting with him?" Tiffany took a deep breath. Just one normal conversation with her sister, was that too much to ask? Just one day where she didn't have to go all "media Moriarty" on some poor, unfortunate soul?

"So, here's what we need you to do."

Tiffany took another slow, deep breath to center herself. When Camille said _we,_ she always meant the most individualistic interpretation of _I_.

"When you meet Captain Rogers tomorrow, you'll sit near the door and wait. When they call out a caramel frappucino for Howard, that's when you'll go. Then, wherever you sit, Rogers will join you. He'll have my mocha."

"What am I supposed to say to the one and only Captain America, Camille?"

Her sister's red lips turned up deviously. "This is why we're sending you instead of me. I've been following the reported sightings. There an eighty percent chance that he's travelling alone. There have been no sightings of Bucky Barnes since Captain Rogers was seen boarding a plane for Nairobi. Well, it could've been Channing Tatum, but I trust my intuition. That's the same time that your buddy King T'Challa returned to Wakanda, only briefly. And who else was in Wakanda? You. So, you tell Rogers that you know where Barnes is, and you tell him that we want them both back and on the team, no charges pressed, no questions asked. I'll take care of the legal stuff."

"Seriously?" Tiffany couldn't help but laugh. "Are you sure this isn't just another one of Sierra's pretend conspiracy theories?" Camille shook her head.

"How are you even 'taking care of the legal stuff?'" Tiffany demanded.

"Let's just say, the federal government owes me a favor."

Tiffany sighed. Couldn't she get a single straight answer today? Or ever? "How do you always know this stuff, anyway?"

Camille merely shrugged again. "I spend a lot of time on the Internet."

Steve Rogers ducked his head and counted to ten.

 _One…_

Shrug your shoulders up and follow the crowd.

 _Two…_

Push open the door.

 _Three…_

Go back out, make sure you have the right place.

 _Four…._

Push open the door again.

 _Five…_

Really, Tony?

 _Six…._

Meander up to the line.

 _Seven…_

Wait.

 _Eight…_

Wait some more.

 _Nine…_

Order a mocha (tall, soy, no whip, light ice).

 _Ten._

"Howard? Caramel frappucino for Howard?"

Steve reached for the coffee at the same time that a small hand did, the owner of the bright orange nails too short to see. "Oh, sorry, ma'am! I thought this was my-"

He stopped short when he met her eyes. The glimmer in them was innocent but wise, young but ancient. "Hi."

The young woman beamed up at him before shyly turning away. "Sorry, it's probably yours, really."

Before she could walk away, he remembered why he was there in the first place. Steve grabbed the young woman's hand and whispered, "You don't look like a Howard."

Still holding his hand in her own, the young woman guided him to a small table in the back of the busy Starbucks. "That's because my name is Tiffany, and, actually, this is my frappuccino."

Tiffany set a large black coffee in front of Steve, silently convincing him to stay. He took a seat and looked into her eyes again. Unlike Sharon Carter, her eyes weren't cold, or hardened, or looking into the eyes of an agent Steve once inspired to stand up against Hydra.

Tiffany closed her lovely green eyes and whispered, "I know that Bucky is in Wakanda."

Completely caught off guard, Steve spewed a fraction of the coffee in his mouth across the table. "What did you just say?"

Thinking on her feet as heads turned towards them, Tiffany declared. "I said it, Roger! I… I asked you to marry me!"

Her plan backfiring, the entire contents of Starbucks, a few camera phones included, froze their full and unadulterated attention on the "couple."

Tiffany forced a grin. Steve stayed put, flabbergasted. He surely would have already cracked under the pressure.

"I want to marry you, Roger!" She continued on. "I want you to take me back and be a part of my family! And the barn cat, too! I even miss Buck the barn cat!"

"And… and what about your father?" Steve's voice shook as much as hers did. He hated lying. He hated everything about lying. From the way that Tiffany stumbled over her next words, he knew that she hated lying, too.

"Dad doesn't care!" she answered, crocodile tears falling down the sides of her face. "He, um, he'll let everything go. He doesn't care that you broke my heart. He doesn't care that the cat has fleas. Just come home!"

Steve caught the flash of a camera out of the corner of his eye. They needed to get out of there, and fast. After this moment went viral, they, like the Grumpy Cat, wouldn't have anywhere left to hide. Besides, he needed to know how she came into contact with him and how much she knew.

Steve took a deep breath.

He looked into her eyes again.

"I love you, Tiffany!" he blurted out, before he could think of another name. "I mean, Kay...I love you, Kay! Yes!" He lifted her up off the ground in a bear hug, and, as the coffee-dependent crowd applauded, he swooped her out of the cafe and onto the back of his motorcycle.

"I have a car waiting for us!" she yelled over the growl of his bike.

"Doesn't matter," Steve sighed. "I know where we're going!"

Camille wasn't much of a neat freak, but this team was a mess.

Half of them were recovering from prison, a third of them were raving mad, and the rest were missing. Her first order of business was the dig up what she could about their troubles and do all in her power to make it better.

She started by flying in their families. Scott Lang had a little girl who'd be happier with him than with her dull stepfather. Barton had an entire legion of children, with yet another one on the way (again). Sweet, tiny little Spider Man didn't want his aunt to find out who he was, but Camille knew firsthand how secrets could destroy you.

So, the New Avengers Facility became a sort of suburb. While Tiffany was out taking care of the first order of business, Camille did all in her power to crack down the team's internal problems. With the help of Coulson's comrade Agent Melinda May, she had the Avengers' living loved ones flown in one by one. Everyone, that is, except for Pepper Potts…

The Vision flew into the kitchen as Camille whipped up enough brunch to feed an army. He breezed right through the counter, solidifying just in time to catch the paranoid stick of butter that slipped from her fingers.

"Vision!" Camille exclaimed, tossing the butter into the crackling pan. "Okay, new rule- you have to make some sort of noise when you enter a room."

He nodded, once, twice, his eyes unmoving. "I came to see if I could be of assistance, Ms. Mackenzi."

"Please, call me Camille," she advised him. "And you can keep an eye on this French toast while I start the bacon, thank you."

With that, she turned her back on the AI and tried to get her thoughts back in order. Now that everyone's families were here, she would need to get in homeschool supplies for the kids. Laura Barton could be their teacher. This place was a mess. The Avengers, especially Stark, were going to have to start pitching in. Maybe she should make a chore chart? Maybe Tiffany would make a chore chart. Where was Tiffany? She always knew what to do.

"Hey, Vision, how do you guys decide who does what around here?"

"Well, I suppose…" He took a moment. "I suppose that I do, Camille."

She nodded. "That's going to stop, I promise."

Chore chart it was.

Maybe she could call a family meeting?

"I stay out too late/got nothing in my brain…"

Careful not to fling the bacon out of the pan, Camille swiped her phone off the counter and under her ear. "Tiffany? How'd it go?"

"EVERYTHIIIING ISHHHHH IHHHHNN ORDUURHHH!"

Her voice was nearly lost between the wind the the rev of the motorcycle engine.

Camille, nevertheless, understood. "Thanks! See you soon! Oh, and I'm making French toast without the cinnamon."

"THHHAANNKKKK YOOOOO!"

"King T'Challa?"

The young warrior rose to his feet as the lovely woman peered around the corner. "Yes, Camille? How may I be of service?"

"We need to talk."

He followed her into the hallway, half out of curiousity for her unfinished thought and half out of respect for the way she commandeered a room. He followed her all the way to the other end of the compound. He followed her behind the closed door of her apartment and onto the sofa with a mug of tea.

She held a cellphone in front of him, displaying a single, glowing text. "You're going to bring Sergeant Barnes here ASAP."

Tiffany: Captain Rogers and I are on the way back.

T'Challa stared at her, speechless. "Ms. Mackenzi, I-"

"No, Your Highness," she interrupted him with a sarcastic bow. "I need you to trust me, T'Challa, if this-" she motioned in circles around the compound- "is going to work. Please, just do what I ask of you. No questions. No consequences. Just trust me."

T'Challa nodded. She was in charge here, not him. He would respect her wishes.

Chills ran through Bucky's body, despite the fact that he'd defrosted an hour ago. Now here he was, on a plane, no straps, no buckles, no restraints. It was just the pilot, and him, in civilian clothes, with a nice, warm blanket, a big cup of tea, and a book. Bucky wasn't sure if he was much of a _The Great Gatsby_ kind of guy, but it was nice that someone had thought of it.

In fact, it was _too_ nice. When he thought about it, everything in this plane reeked of… Of… Bucky took a deep breath. He didn't want to go down that road again. He was safe now. Steve had promised that he would always be safe now.

 _But what if he lied to you, too?_

Instead of doubting the only person he knew to be true, Bucky buried himself in the fabulous 1920s. If only he, too, could live in the past.

 _You're strong enough to break down that door._

No. Bucky physically shook the thought from his head. He wasn't going back there again.

He ducked his nose into the book, keeping his eyes down until the plane landed.

When Bucky finally got off of the bite-sized plane, he stumbled in the unfamiliar shoes and into unfamiliar arms. "Welcome home, Bucky!"

The strong arms of his best friend wrapped around both Bucky and the little voice. "Welcome back, Buck."

When Steve stepped back, Bucky squinted at the shrimp of a girl who stood next to him. He looked from her to Steve.

"Bucky, I'd like you to meet Tiffany. She's in charge here. She brought you back, and she's here to make sure nothing bad happens to you."

Bucky smiled at Tiffany.

"Actually, that would be my job."

A lady identical to Tiffany, except somehow sharper, like a pocketknife, strode onto the rooftop in a big, black trench coat. "You don't have anything to worry about, Sergeant Barnes. Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner are going to see what we can do to get you back in top shape. Sam is going to help you train properly."

"No, I'm not!"

"Yes, you are. And, Sergeant, don't pay any attention to the other agents. No one's coming to arrest you."

Bucky stepped back a little bit, his eyes perplexed. "Why?"

She smiled ever-so-slightly. "I cashed in a favor with the federal government."

Bucky broke out into a grin. "Geez, ma'am, I suppose I should kiss you right about now."

The woman skirted to the side. "That won't be necessary. Bucky Barnes, welcome to the Avengers."

Tiffany Mackenzi had a problem.

Her problem was this: Camille seemed to have everything under control.

Tiffany tossed a fluffy blue pillow against her living room wall, falling back onto a half dozen pillows just like it. Camille was _always_ the problem because Camille _always_ seemed to have everything under control. She'd traded in a childhood of messy buns for a dark, sleek mane. She'd given up boyband posters for flip charts and geeky movie marathons for board meetings.

After four university years apart, Tiffany was so excited to move to New York City with her best friend. However, she never could have predicted how quickly her sister would absorb Manhattan into her veins. "The City That Never Sleeps" seemed appropriate. As Tiffany packed for China and India and Thailand and Mali, Camille unpacked black heels and party dresses and expensive perfume. When Tiffany returned from six months training Peace Corps troops in the Middle East, the Camille that she'd always known was gone.

Tiffany twirled a string of beads in her hair as she thought about the funeral. She would never forget the way that Lothario looked like a wax figure lying in that casket. He was as stiff and rigid in death as he'd been charming and magnetic in life. She remembered rushing back to the States as soon as her mother called. She remembered borrowing a long sleeve black dress from the back of Camille's closet. She remembered flying the entire family out to Manhattan. What she couldn't remember was a single tear on her sister's face.

Bangles clanged in a sweet cacophony as Tiffany shook herself back to the present. This was here and now. New York city was worlds away. She was worlds away from anything she'd ever known….

"Um, Tiffany? Hi…" She looked up as Captain Rogers peeked through the door.

"Come on in, Captain," she answered.

"Oh, um, call me Steve," he smiled, pushing his hair back with one hand and training his eyes on the ground.

A gentle smile crept up Tiffany's face. "What can I do for you, Steve?"

"Um, well...I...I…" Steve stuttered, much to the delight of whoever snickered on the other side of the door. "I was wondering if…"

Tiffany shook her head. She could see where this was going from a thousand miles away, and she sure wasn't going down this road again. "Steve, I'm here to work, okay? So, unless you have a real issue with one of your teammates, then I need to… concentrate on my work." That sounded convincing, right?

Steve nodded. "Yeah, well…. Sam wanted me to tell you that-"

"Oh, what's going on in here?" Brushing right past Steve, Tony Stark scrutinized the two talking within the room and the two eavesdropping outside. "Steve, I called dibs."

Steve's shy smile twisted into a cruel scowl. "Stark, that's not how you're supposed to treat a lady!"

Tony only laughed. Turning to Tiffany, he said, "You, me, dinner. Tonight. I don't take no for an-"

"Sorry." Tiffany forced a smile. "I'm too busy concentrating on my work."

While Tiffany was concentrating on her work, Steve found it a little hard not to concentrate on _her._ Camille had delegated to them the task of adjusting Bucky to life as an Avenger. Steve took care of training and fashion, and Tiffany took care of manners and modern times. Camille also managed to slip in time for Steve to train Tiffany to fight.

You would never know it by looking at her, but Tiffany had a lot of fight in her. After just a few weeks, she could keep up with Bucky as a sparring partner. The three of them enjoyed making up arguments to inspire their training. Steve always ate the last doughnut, Tiffany hadn't woken up on time to eat breakfast with them, or Bucky wasn't meeting his daily smile quota.

"The three musketeers!" Bucky exclaimed, throwing an arm around each of them. He didn't talk very much, but his smile would have outshined any number of Stark's arc reactors.

Steve was catching his breath by the kitchen sink one Monday afternoon when Natasha strode in. She perched herself atop the counter and glared at him.

"What, Nat?" Steve groaned.

She punched him in the shoulder.

"Ow, Nat!' Steve growled.

Her voice was low, hollow.

"You left me behind."

Turning his attention from his bruised shoulder to his best friend, Steve offered an apologetic smile. It wasn't everyday that the infamous Black Widow showed emotion. "I'm sorry, Nat. I had to run. But I'm here now."

She punched his shoulder again. "You never even told me that you actually liked Sharon Carter."

Steve couldn't help but laugh. He hadn't even told _himself_ that he actually liked Sharon Carter. "Is that what this is about, Nat?" he teased her.

Her face mirrored the unused toaster- cold, expressionless. "Steve. No." Then, she smirked. "And when were you going to tell me about Tiffany?"

"Shh!" Steve cut her off, dropping his voice to the floor. "Nat, please."

"Relax," she shrugged. "I'm just making conversation. That's what Tiffany told me I needed to do. Apparently, to fix my friendships around here, I have to take an 'interest' in other people's lives. And _you_ seem very interested in her life."

Steve nodded. "What about Banner, huh?"

Natasha glanced to the floor, her mind travelling elsewhere. When she returned, her voice was different. "Steve, where is Banner?"

For all the world, he wished he could tell her. But this- this one time that Natasha needed him, and he had to let her down. "I'm sorry, Nat. But I just don't know."

"Camille, if you find Dr. Banner, then I will do anything that you need me to do to get this team-"

"Oh, Natasha! Good, you're here. Hold this phone."

Natasha fumbled with the cellphone that Camille unceremoniously thrust into your hands. Holding it to her ear, she tuned in to the silence, hearing nothing.

"Let me know when Dr. Hofstadter is back online," Camille murmured, tossing around pillows and brushing empty cups to the floor as she tore her apartment apart.

"Uh, Ms. Mackenzi?"

Natasha leapt to action, trying to decipher who this mysterious caller was.

"Hello, Ms. Mackenzi?"

"Um, Camille?" Natasha held out the phone. This guy sounded like a real nerd.

Camille waved her hands about in frustration. "Tell him just a minute. And remind him that it's _Dr. Mackenzi._ "

"Dr. Hofstadter, _Dr. Mackenzi_ will be just a minute," Natasha told the cellphone.

"Well, can you ask her be quick, please? Dr. Cooper is-"

Camille froze. "Did he say Dr. Cooper was having a meltdown?"

Natasha held out the phone.

"We found something! We found something!" A young man with an Indian accent yelled from the other line. "Camille, we-"

"Dr. Mackenzi speaking," Camille cut him off, taking back the phone. Natasha smirked. The team's new "manager" sure was a real snob about this whole "doctor" thing. "Yes? You did it? Are you sure? And is Mr. Wolowitz able to operate the robotic- No, Dr. Koothrappali. I'm not seeing anyone. Put Dr. Hofstadter back on the phone."

Camille went back and forth with Dr. Hofstader for a good ten minutes before she finally hung up the phone. Natasha waited, hands on her hips and her heart in her throat.

"Natasha, I'm glad you're here because I wanted you to be the first one to know." Camille beamed. "We've located Dr. Banner. A rescue mission is currently underway."

Bruce wasn't sure how he felt about being back. Tiffany and Camille were nice, but the rest of the team was still on edge. Everyone wanted to know what side he would've been on or how he felt about the Wakanda Accords. Meanwhile, Camille kept redirecting him into the lab to "fix Bucky" and Tiffany kept redirecting him to the living room couch to "sort out his underlying issues."

Bruce, however, just wanted to lay down.

"You know, I can't decide why I'm here," Bruce sighed, attaching magnetic sensors to the Winter Soldier's metal arm.

"You're here because that phone-snatching dwarf wanted you here," Tony shrugged, tinkering away at another possible prosthetic. "Why are we working in here? Her."

"Who is she, the new director of SHIELD?" Bruce griped.

"She seems to think she is," Tony shrugged. "What about Tiffany, though? Now, there is an ideal woman."

"Stark." Bruce gave him a disapproving look.

"No, no." Tony shook his head. "Not, like, trophy. Like, ideal. As in, she's intelligent, kind, caring, compassionate, and driven."

"True," Bruce nodded.

The Winter Soldier smirked. "Steve seems to think so."

Tony made a face of mock surprise. "I thought Cap'n Crunch was after his dead girlfriend's granddaughter or something."

The marks on Bruce's screen flickered when the Winter Soldier winced. "Niece. And, no, that didn't work out."

"That's a shame," Tony shook his head. "They say that the best way to honor a dead loved one is by dating their closest relative."

As the marks spiked, Bruce exclaimed, "Tony, drop it, why don't you? You're making us both _very angry._ "

Tony put down his tinkering to come put his arm around his best friend's shoulders. "Hey, relax, man. You know I'm only joking. It's what I do. But if it's making you green out, then I'll stop."

"Promise me?" Bruce sighed.

Tony shook his hand. "I promise."

Bruce nodded, and Tony returned to his tinkering.

The Winter Soldier, however, must have been feeling rather chatty. "I like Tiffany better."

"Better than you liked Sharon, you mean?" Bruce asked gently.

He nodded. "She's… better for Steve, I think. Nicer. More gentle. Kinda like Peggy, but without the guns."

Tony spoke up once again. "I always liked Aunt Peggy. Great lady."

Bucky nodded. After a long silence, he said, quietly, "You know, Steve and I, we always had this little dream about gettin' hitched to sisters."

Bruce offered him a small smile. "That's nice, Barnes. Don't go giving Stark any ideas, though."

It was too late, though, because Bruce could already see Tony's wheels starting to turn.

"Camille, why aren't we doing any, I don't know, _Avenging_?" Tony Stark waltzed into the kitchen like he owned the place because, well, he did.

"Because we are going to sort out your internal problems _here_ while I clean up the mess you made out _there._ " She delivered the line like a well-rehearsed commercial slogan. "That's Tiffany's job versus mine, in a nutshell."

"Ah, the outside," Tony sighed dreamily, lounging himself against the counter. "Remind me, what it look like out there?"

"A couple thousand protestors who are out for your blood," she answered in the same, dry tone as before.

"Right," Tony nodded. Where was this girl's personality? He'd seen her on TV. Surely she wasn't this… _salty_ all of the time. "So, tell me, what are you doing on the outside?"

"Cleaning up your mess," she repeated, pouring a mug of tea.

Tony poured himself a cup of coffee. "And what exactly does that entail?"

"Not a magic-stealing computer program that's out to destroy the world, that's for sure." She took a sip of tea.

Tony narrowed his eyes. She was a feisty one. "No wonder you do so well in the media industry. You're mean."

She merely rolled her eyes. "I'm the evil twin."

"Evil Twin," Tony smirked. "That's your new name."

"Whatever you say, Tony Stank," she smirked.

"How'd you get Dr. Banner back?"

"I hired an underwater research team."

"How'd you get a research team?"

"I bought a research boat."

"Where'd you get money for a research boat?"

"I have connections."

"With?"

"Friends."

Tony took a sip of coffee. Women like her didn't have friends, they had minions and associates. "I have money, you know, if you ever need anything."

She smiled, then shrugged. "Thank you, Tony, but I already have everything I need."

She walked out of the room without a backwards glance.

After a mere three months with the Avengers, Camille was 99 percent sure that she had everything in order.

 _Three months. That's a new record for total disaster._

Families were back together. Friends were reunited. The Wakanda Accords were being redrafted at this very moment. And, best of all…

 _Tiffany's going to dinner with Captain America!_

At the end of the day, there was nothing that Camille wanted more than her sister's undying happiness. She would die for it, even. She almost did.

Anyhow, Tiffany was having dinner with Steve Rogers, in the tucked away dining room of the apartment that the sisters shared. Camille made sure that a suitable dinner was prepared well in advance so that the apartment would still be standing when she returned.

Meanwhile, she had some business of her own to attend to…

"Camille, are you really going to wear that?" Wanda linked her arm through Camille's and led her to her room. "You can't go out like that. No, just… no."

"I dress like this everyday, Wanda." Camille shook her head. Wanda never said anything about her clothes. What was the problem now?

"Exactly," Wanda answered, as if she was reading Camille's mind. "Come on."

The sorceress threw open her closet doors and proceeded to pull everything out. "I did Tiffany earlier. Now, it's your turn."

After forcing Camille into a suitable evening gown (what the heck? Why the long skirt? Had Tiffany picked this outfit out or something?), Wanda used her powers to attempt to fancy braid on Camille's sensibly cut hair. Finally settling on a simple updo instead, Wanda released her project to the world.

"Go find Tiffany," she instructed, propelling Camille in the opposite direction of where she needed to go.

As cheesy as it was, Steve's eyes lit up when he saw his beautiful date for the evening. Tiffany's sparkly dress was a weird sort of blue that made her look like a mermaid from a Disney movie. Where had he seen that shade of blue before? Oh, that was right! He saw it every morning when he looked in the mirror, after he shaved his face and splashed water on his chin and glanced at his own blue eyes.

Another favorite Disney movie popped into his head just then, one that he and Bucky had watch with Tiffany after she told him about working in China.

 _What do we want? A girl worth fighting for…_

"Dude," Bucky whispered, using a term he'd picked up from Tiffany herself.

Steve smiled. He was nervous. He was also glad, because he'd been right to ask Bucky along for the night.

"Um, Tiffany, hey!" Steve greeted the most beautiful woman in the world with a bear hug. "Thanks, thanks for coming!"

Tiffany laughed nervously. "Thanks for having us."

As if on cue, Tiffany's sister tromped into the room. She swayed dangerously on big shoes, stumbling right into Bucky's waiting arms. "Hello," he managed.

"Hi," Camille huffed, glancing to Tiffany for an interpretation.

Steve recognized the look that Tiffany shot back. It was the same look that Bucky used to give Steve before coercing him into another "double date."

Steve led the way out to the balcony. As a surprise to both girls, he'd moved the dinner outside. Under the moonlight, twinkling lights glinted off the glass rims of water glasses and the shiny plates of Vision's finest dining.

"Hey, guys!" Clint greeted them with a wave and a mouthful of Vision's finest dining.

"Barton," Steve said evenly. "What are you-"

"Hey, man!" Sam popped up beside Clint. "This is some good grub. You hungry?"

"What are you doing here?" Bucky snarled.

Sam grinned. "Mama bird's teaching her baby bird how to fly."

Steve couldn't help but chuckle. "Get out of here, Sam."

"Hey, you don't have reservations," Clint shot back. "This is my favorite balcony."

"Actually, it's my balcony, and I need to go," Camille inserted.

Steve hesitated. This evening was losing its magic rather quickly. "Sam is here to play the violin, and Clint is here to sing."

"What?" Both birdies dropped their jaws.

"Yeah, remember?" Steve cocked his head towards the violin he'd left in the corner in hopes that Bucky remembered something from the three years of violin lessons that his Romanian mother had forced him into. And anyone who'd ever been inside the compound while Hawkeye showered knew that Barton belonged on Broadway.

"Right!" Sam agreed, taking up his self-declared role as "wingman."

"Whatever, man," Clint shrugged, and the two began to harmonize slow, mellow versions of 1980s rock hits.

As Steve helped Tiffany into her seat, Camille plopped across from her. "What is this mess? This is not what I made."

"It's lobster," Bucky smiled, sliding into the seat beside her.

"I don't eat seafood," Camille grunted.

Steve was about to panic. "Tiffany, do you hate lobster, too?"

"We've actually never tried it," Tiffany answered sweetly. "But I bet it's delicious."

As the evening progressed, Steve wondered why he'd even bothered to look up "love" in the Urban Dictionary. This was it, he was pretty sure, and if it wasn't, then nobody better tell him. When he looked at Tiffany, he didn't feel like he did when he looked at Peggy. He was humble, not brave. Imperfect, not heroic. Ready to settle down, not ready to jump into action. He wasn't Captain America tonight. No, tonight, here, with her, he was just… Steve.

Finally.

Glancing at her in the flickering candlelight, a romantic rendition of "We Are The Champions" playing in the background, he leaned closer to her, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and he kissed her.

" _Ma faci sa visez in culori_ ," Bucky whispered in Camille's ear.

He kept his voice soft, low, filling the lull in conversation with words from his mother's homeland.

 _You make me dream in colors._

" _M_ _ **ă**_ _gând_ _ **e**_ _sc t_ _ **o**_ _t t_ _ **i**_ _mpul l_ _ **a**_ _t_ _ **i**_ _ne_."

Steve was content to sit with Tiffany in silence, but Bucky was so tired of never saying anything at all.

 _I'm thinking of you all the time._

He planted a brave kiss on her cheek.

" _Inima mea bate alaturi de a ta_."

She gave him a strange look.

 _My heart beats next to yours._

Bucky laughed softly. Apparently, girls in this century weren't used to being treated as if they were the only woman in the universe. He put his arm around her shoulders.

"It's Romanian," he explained. "My mother and father- they were immigrants. I grew up speaking both languages. My dad would always whisper in my mom's ear about how much he wanted to be with her."

"That's nice." Camille didn't flinch. "How do you say, 'I need to get to a very important meeting?' in Romanian?"

Bucky smiled. " _As vrea sa the sarut_."

Camille repeated, " _As vrea sa the sarut_."

"Okay," Bucky laughed, pressing his lips against hers.

Camille jerked away, the candle flames flickering in her eyes. "What was that?"

From the other side of the table, Tiffany smiled at her sister. "It was Romanian," she clarified, pulling her attention away from Steve momentarily. "I picked up a few phrases last time I was in Russia. You said, 'I'd like to kiss you.'"

Camille pushed her chair out and got up. "Excuse me," she mumbled, pushing past the invasive musical duo to get back into the building.

"Tiffany, this is no time for romance!" Camille yelled as soon her sister returned. "You are supposed to be counseling the Avengers and fixing their whacked up brains, not falling in love with one of them!"

"Why can't you just be happy for me?" Tiffany shot back. "Or, here's an idea- for once in your life, don't be a jerk!" She knew that the insult would sting, but she was sick and tired of how controlling her sister had been these past three months.

"I am not a jerk!" Camille yelled back. "I'm just doing my job! And you should, too!"

"I am doing your job!" Tiffany screamed. "I am fixing this team! I am the one talking to them and listening to them and helping them make amends!"

"And what about how hard I'm working, huh?" Camille fired back.

"Oh, you mean making mysterious phone calls and spending a bunch of money that you don't have?" Tiffany seethed. "And lying and hiding and manipulating? Like you always do lately?"

"I don't want to talk to you!" Camille roared. "Go do your job!"

"You are not the boss of me!" Tiffany screamed. "You're my sister. My best friend. Not… this!"

Camille rolled her eyes. "And you're going to end up right back where you were with Tong Mu."

Tiffany stopped. Camille knew better. Camille knew _way better_ than to bring up Tong Mu.

"That's right," Camille crossed her arms. "Let us not forget how your last relationship crashed and burned. How five years meant _nothing_ when you didn't have 'time and effort' to put into it. Face it, Tiffany. You'll always be alone. Your life doesn't _allow_ for a relationship."

Tears brimming in her eyes, Tiffany launched a pillow at her sister. "Well, at least I didn't complain my fiance to death."

Camille froze. It was in that moment that Tiffany knew she'd made a mistake.

"Camille, I'm sorry. You know I didn't mean-"

"Lothario didn't die because I complained him to death," Camille stated coldly, as only a frozen person could. "Sorry for what I said about Tong Mu. At least nobody killed him."

Tiffany wondered how many of Lothario's secrets still floated around in her sister's mind. She wondered how many of them tied her here, to this position. She wondered how many held her sister back now.

And she resolved to find the answers.

"Hey, Tiffany!" Steve greeted his best girl bright and early the very next morning. "How's it going?"

Tiffany shrugged. "It's fine."

Oh, no. What had Bucky done now? Surely he hadn't gone and picked a fight with her sister. _Surely_ he hadn't gone and picked a fight with her sister….

"Steve, we need to talk." Tiffany looked right into his eyes. She had her fighting face on. "We can't do this. At least, not right now. Not yet. I'm not looking for anyone. I shouldn't have pretended last night like I was. I'm… still trying to find myself, I guess."

Steve nodded. _Just when you think you've found the one…_

"Let me know when you find her, 'cuz I bet she's pretty amazing," Steve smiled. With that, he tucked his feelings into a box and strapped on his sparring gear.

"Tiffany, can I talk to you?" Sam approached her hesitantly, as if he might bolt at any second.

She nodded. "Of course, Sam." She patted the spot on the couch next to her. "What's up?"

"Well, I…" He closed his eyes. He'd been wanting to say this for a long time. Even with all the support groups he'd led, all the veterans he'd met, all the counselors he'd talked to… It was time to get this off his chest. Gravity only weighed down his wings.

"In Afghanistan, when I was a pilot fighter…." He took a deep breath. He closed his eyes. He opened them. He made eye contact. She was gentle, reassuring. No wonder Steve had fallen for her. She seemed like a great girl. No, focus. Let it out. Tell somebody. _Tell somebody who can help._ "Tiffany, when I was in Afghanistan, and I was a pilot fighter, I shot and I missed."

She reached for his hand, anchoring him.

"A whole house went up into flames. A civilian house. They told me that nobody was inside, but, Tiffany, I heard their screams. Maybe it was neighbors, or maybe it was all in my head, but… those were civilians. I… I can't get it out of my head."

"Sam," Tiffany offered a gentle smile. "We all make mistakes. And when you're in a position of power, you make greater mistakes. But you can't let fear or regret control you. You are a hero now. You are fighting to protect civilians. You are fighting to protect all of us." She took a deep breath of her own. "And, yeah, you're all making mistakes. Then, now, in the future. There's no escaping it. But, don't live in regret- let it fuel you and make you better, not bitter. Work so that nobody has to go through what those people did. Work so that we maybe don't need fighters one day. Work so that all those kids who live in violence and poverty and need who look at you as someone they can be- work so that they can work to become heros, too."

Sam pressed his nose against his knuckles. He was crying. He needed to sleep this off.

Camille was angry at Tiffany for what she said about Lothario. She was angry at Lothario for everything he never said. She was angry at herself for everything in between.

Why was she so insensitive? Tiffany shouldn't suffer just because Camille had to. What happened between her and Lothario was between her and Lothario (and everyone single associate he'd ever had, and the United States government, and Director Coulson).

The point was, Tiffany could fall in love. She had _everything_ going for her. Tong Mu was an idiot to let her go. He was an idiot to replace her with Ashbee Evans. He was an idiot to just walk out on Tiffany after five years. He was an idiot to propose to Ashbee Evans after five months. He was an idiot, plain and simple.

But Captain America? Captain America?! And Camille had ruined it, just like that.

She picked up her phone. Maybe she could make it up to Tiffany by-

"Hey, Camille, I think we've got a problem." Bruce Banner stuck his head into her apartment. "A Thor-sized problem."

Tiffany rushed into the dining room when she heard the _WHOOSH._ Whatever that magical light was that was leaving a nasty mark on the table, she wasn't going to be the one to clean up. As the shining portal subsided, the brightest smile she'd ever seen lit up her world.

"HELLO, BEAUTIFUL LADY OF MIDGARD!" The one and Thor greeted her. "I AM THOR ODINSON, OF ASGARD. WHERE MAY I FIND THE SON OF COUL?"

"Um, Camille!" Tiffany called over her shoulder. As she gawked up at the new guest, the other Avengers trickled into the dining room to investigate.

"Tiffany! What did you do-oh!" Camille stopped short when she saw Thor.

"Hello, I'm Tiffany!" Stretching out her hand, Tiffany greeted her favorite Avenger. "It's nice to finally meet you!"

"AND HOW WONDERFUL TO MEET YOU AS WELL, LADY KAYLA." He kissed her hand and winked.

"And this is my sister Camille." She moved to introduce her partner-in-crime. "When Coulson's not here, we pretty much run the show."

Thor nodded. Moving aside, he introduced the tall, lanky grouchpot who stood behind him. "AND THIS IS MY BROTHER LOKI. FATHER IS RESTORED TO HIS THRONE, AND LOKI NO LONGER RUNS THE SHOW, AS YOU SAY."

With a sly smile, Loki brushed past Tiffany to reach for her sister's hand, "How lovely to meet you, Lady Camille." He hopped down from the table and glanced back at Thor. "If this is exile, I'll stay forever."

Thor hopped down from the table with a _THUD._ "PAY NO MIND TO MY BROTHER, DEAR LADY. HE IS A LIAR AND A FLIRT. HE HAS NO REASON, FOR HE HAS NEVER WON THE HEART OF A WOMAN BEFORE."

"Thor!" Loki snarled, barely loud enough to be heard above the resounding snickers. "How dare you speak of me in such a manner!"

"YOU WILL DO WELL TO PUT ON YOUR POLITE PANTS, BROTHER," Thor warned him. "LADY KAYLA, WHAT AM I TO DO WITH THE PRISONER?"

"There are no prisoners here, Thor," Camille cut in, guiding Tiffany towards Loki. "He can join Tiffany, Steve, and Bucky for readjustment. Or, well, adjustment to life on earth. Because that's how we do things here."

"I can speak for myself, Camille," Kayle reminded her. More kindly, she continued, "We'll take care of him, Thor. Don't worry about it."

"I am not a thing to be taken care of!" Loki snarled.

"SILENCE, BROTHER!" Thor boomed. To Tiffany, he added, "THANK YOU, BRAVE WARRIOR, FOR TAKING CARE OF MY BROTHER. BE CAREFUL WITH HIM. HE IS MOST PRECIOUS TO ME."

"Come on, Loki," Tiffany directed him towards the gym. "Let's see what Steve and Bucky have to say about our new friend."

Steve set the dinner table for three. No, four. No, three.

How about just two?

Shoulders slumping forward, Steve returned the other two place settings to the table. As he straightened himself, the oven dinged. Steve slid the oatmeal cookies from the oven and gave the pot on the stove one final stir. He slipped the apron over his head just as someone knocked on the door.

"Just a second!" Steve called out, quickly sticking a sprig of fresh mint in a coffee mug and setting it on the table for decoration. He raced to the door, swinging it open with enough force to knock his picture frames askew. "Hello!"

"Hey, man," Bucky smirked, letting himself inside. He made a face. "What smells so bad?"

"I made cookies," Steve mumbled, hanging his head. They didn't look _that_ burned, did they?

Bucky snickered. "You've sure got it bad, don't you, Steve?"

"No," Steve mumbled again. With a shrug, he added, "Can't a guy just make cookies?"

With a sly grin, Bucky put his hand on his best friend's shoulder. "Steve, we are not those guys." He smacked the back of Steve's head. "If I remember correctly, Steve, I taught you better than this. Be direct. Be polite. Be charming. Don't be… baking cookies."

Steve just shook his head. With another sloppy shrug, he confided, "I just want to get it right this time, you know?"

"Get what right?" Tiffany asked as she let herself in through the open door.

"Apparently, baking." With a grimace, Loki shut the door behind them. "What have you done, American Man?"

"It's Captain America," Steve stated firmly. "And our conversation is none of your concern, villain."

Loki mocked a look of hurt. "Villain? Me? Trust me, Captain, yours truly would never harm a fly." His eyes twinkled as a moth zapped out of the air.

Steve broke his staring contest with Loki to meet Tiffany's eyes behind him. "What is he doing here? We dealt with him all day."

Tiffany shrugged. "Sorry, Steve. He's a part of our program now."

With that, Loki helped himself to Steve's favorite dining chair, the tallest of the mismatched set. He crossed his legs, eyeing the empty plate in front of him. "Where are the servants with the meal?"

"Loki," Tiffany sighed. "We've been over this." Steve put a hand on her shoulder. He understood. Loki made it very, very difficult to remain polite. "There are no servants here. You can get up and get what you want yourself, or, if you need help, you ask someone _politely_."

"I shouldn't be bothered to request assistance," Loki sneered. "I am a prince, not a common peasant."

"Well, man, here, you're a man without a country," Bucky cut in coldly. "Welcome to the club."

Loki could not believe the _guile_ of these mere mortals. He was an Asgardian, for Valhalla's sake! Why should he dine among common men- and those to whom he'd lost in battle, no doubt?

So he ate in silence, pushing the mushy meat around his plate with one of those tiny forks. He cursed Thor with every screech of metal against ceramic, for taking away his throne, for bringing him here, for leaving him with these imbeciles. He set the fork down. This food did not even appear edible. He would much rather starve.

"Loki, please eat," Lady Tiffany sighed, breaking her conversation with the Captain to address him. "You haven't eaten yet today. Aren't you hungry?"

With a cool turn of his head, Loki ignored her. She'd proven herself a worthy opponent on the training field but had yet to prove her value to him personally otherwise.

"Loki, if you don't eat, then how can you train tomorrow?"

He stood up and walked away. He knew a charm that could produce his favorite Asgardian delicacies within moments.

Tony woke up in a puddle of… caramel?

Dragging himself out of bed, he discovered that he stuck to the sheets. When he finally got his feet to the floor, his toes glued themselves to the carpet.

"KRISTEN!"

When that wretched manager of theirs finally appeared, he tossed a sticky pillow at her head. "When I find whoever did this, I will make them _pay_."

To his surprise, she giggled. "That's actually pretty funny. Friday, call a family meeting!"

Tony sighed. "Family meetings" were one of Tiffany's ideas. He usually enjoyed them. Camille wasn't often in attendance, and there was a talking stick so that no one could interrupt him.

Rhodey was the first Avenger to make it across the caramel ocean and into Tony's apartment. "Dude, what did you do?" Tony scowled as his best friend busted out laughing.

"Tony Stank seems to have gotten himself in a sticky situation!" Camille announced as the other teammates trickled in.

When Tiffany came in, she (thank goodness) took control. "Camille! What did you do?"

"It wasn't me," she giggled, "But I wish it was!"

"Alright, who did this?" Tiffany called out.

To no one's surprise, really, Loki materialized. "Tell me, what have I missed?"

"BROTHER!" Thor shouted at the same time that Camille held up her hand for a high five.

"You find me entertaining, dear lady?" he smiled.

"No, no, no, she does not," Tiffany cut in. "You, Loki, go… go get something to clean this up. Tony, go get yourself cleaned up. Everybody else, go about your business. _Camille,_ we should talk."

Tony disappeared into the bathroom, revenge on the forefront of his mind.

"Camille, don't encourage him!" Tiffany let her have it as soon as they were safely behind the closed door of their apartment.

"Why not?" Camille smirked. "It was funny!"

Tiffany shook her head. She hated that _this_ was the first thing to make her sister laugh in a while. "Camille, what the heck?"

"Stark is a jerk," she shrugged. "He finally got what was coming to him."

"No, Camille, _Loki_ is the jerk. And you've stuck me with him all the time!"

"If you don't want him, I'll take him," Camille shrugged. "He seems kinda fun."

"Fine." Tiffany crossed her arms. What was she supposed to do with her when she didn't understand? Camille just didn't get it. "If you want to Loki-sit, then be my guest. I, for one, would like to have it back to just me and my friends."

"Oh, so we're not friends now?" Camille countered.

"I never said that," Tiffany corrected her. "What I _did_ say was that I'd like to not have to deal with the spaceman who almost single-handedly destroyed New York City while I'm trying to spend time with the two people who actually care about me!"

"I care about you!" Camille yelled. "You don't appreciate anything I do for you!"

"You only ever do anything for yourself!" Tiffany shot back. "You got this job to make yourself powerful. You moved to New York to make yourself feel important. You changed so much just to fit in with your new 'crowd' while I was gone. And you didn't feel anything when your own fiance died because YOU. ARE. A. ROCK."

"You don't know half of what I've done for you!" Camille shouted before running into her bedroom. The door slammed and locked behind her.

That was it.

Tiffany was getting to the bottom of this, once and for all.

"Natasha, I need your help."

With a cold glance over her shoulder, Natasha assessed the situation. Red-faced and teary-eyed, Tiffany might be searching for a shoulder to cry on. Wasn't that her sister's job?

No, the slight clench of her jaw was anger, not heartbreak. Well, maybe a little bit.

Intrigued, Natasha spun around in her desk chair. "Step into my office."

Tiffany perched on the edge of the couch Natasha rarely used. "You're good with computers, right?"

Natasha nodded. She was the best, as always.

"Well, Camille said something to me earlier- 'You don't know half of what I've done for you.' But more than that, I think her dead fiance was up to something shady. Do you think you could help me check it out?" Tiffany was hopeful and hurting, a deadly combination that Natasha hadn't seen since the last time she looked in a mirror.

"You need help getting secret intel? I'm your girl. When should we start?"

"Maybe we could kind of poke around today and then meet up later tonight to discuss it?" Tiffany suggested. "I'd say now, but I kind of need to get back to-"

"Steve and Bucky? Say no more." Natasha typed a few keywords into her computer. "Come back here around eleven. We'll tell the others we're having a pajama party."

A smile broke Tiffany's downcast countenance. "See you then. Thank you so much."

"No problem," Natasha smiled.

And she meant it.

"So, Lady Camille, what business shall we go about today?"

Camille cringed at the sound of Loki's voice behind her. Between three important phone calls and a few Internet searches that had been immediately wiped from her history, she'd forgotten the frivolous deal she made with Tiffany.

 _If you don't want him, I'll take him._

She cast the villain a sympathetic glance. She knew all too well what it felt like to be unwanted. That's the way it had been post-college, anyway. Not one application in her first six months led to an interview, apart from the one for sales consultant at a high-end thrift shop. That was, of course, until Wassermedien.

Young and stupid, Camille first heard about Wassermedien at a party of a friend of a friend. Tiffany was in India at the time, so Camille was by herself, in New York, looking for ways to pass the time between her 9-5 and her 8-12. Lothario first saw her when she was wrapped up in her sweater on a couch, reading _The Great Gatsby_ for what must have been the eighteenth time. He introduced himself as a travelling businessman and made himself at home next to her on the couch.

They talked all night. What began as a lifted book cover to answer the question of what she was reading became something from the pages it contained within. Though he was leaving the country on business tomorrow, Lothario took her number and promised to call her, took her address and promised to write. Young and stupid, Camille believed every word.

Lothario's texts and postcards soon turned into expensive gifts and extravagant provisions. She moved into a loft right above her favorite Broadway theater for her twenty-third birthday. She drove a red Camaro even though she never took it out of the parking garage. And with a reference from her secretively successful suitor, Camille became a high-ranking employee of the Wassermedien American Branch overnight.

When Tiffany returned from India, she was angry. She reminded Camille how young and stupid she was being. They didn't talk for three months. Tiffany went to Afghanistan to oversee peace talks. When she returned, she moved into the Broadway loft.

What Tiffany _didn't_ know- would **never** know- was exactly what when on during those long three months of her absence. When Tiffany left, Lothario returned. With him, he brought the expectancy that Camille would be his girl. What she'd read as an unusual friendship became a relationship. And what she read as a relationship became a business partnership- namely, she learned what Wassermedien really stood for and what they really did. _What they really made me do._

Camille glanced at Loki. He would've liked Wassermedien, she mused. They controlled everything that we didn't see- scandals, payouts, warrants, bails. Wassermedien had been the fly in the soup since the end of World War II. In her time with the German political media company, Camille had lied to the public, bribed political officials, entered countries illegally, drafted unfair bills, and, worst of all, accepted money for every single crime she committed.

The connections you'll make are invaluable, they said. She laughed in spite of it all. What they didn't tell you was how heavy the burden of international governmental secrets weighed on your shoulders. What they didn't tell you was how it felt to be America's Private Enemy #1.

What they did tell her, though, was exactly what they'd do to Tiffany if she ever disobeyed.

Tiffany looked at herself in the mirror. She was so done with letting her sister control her life. None of her "warnings" ever merited any truth. None of her "advice" was ever helpful in any way, shape, or form. The only nice thing Camille had done for her since they got to the compound was take away the Loki responsibilities.

Tiffany was done. She had spent the past four years living her life for other people. It was time to consider herself for once.

"Hey, Thor?" Tiffany bounced off of Thor's chest when she walked out of her apartment and straight into him.

"MY MOST DEAR LADY KAYLA!" he bellowed. "PLEASE, LET US DINE TOGETHER TOMORROW NIGHT. IT WOULD BE MY GREATEST HONOR."

"Um… okay." Blushing, as ridiculously cheesy as it sounds, Tiffany nodded. "There is a balcony in my apartment. We can have dinner there, maybe?"

Smiling his most brilliant smile, Thor nodded. "THE DATE HAS BEEN SET, MOST DEAR LADY KAYLA."

Walking to the training room, Tiffany smiled to herself.

It wasn't like she _owed_ Steve anything. She was finding her own happiness now, and she could take her own sweet time.

Camille perched on the end of the sofa with her cellphone in one hand and a mug of her favorite tea in the other. "Yes, I understand," she explained to the deep voice on the other end of the line. "Yes. It's all in order. I won't forget. You have my word. Yes. Of course. Always. I understand."

When she ended the call, Loki stretched his long legs overtop of her. "What are you up to, dear one?" He grinned devilishly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Not about to pull one over on the old Avengers, are we?"

She scowled at him. "You know, we were all perfectly content until you showed up."

"That is a lie as good as any I have ever told," Loki grinned. When she narrowed her eyes, he simply added, "And how is Barnes?"

Camille shoved his legs off of the couch. "You need to learn to mind your own business, trickster. I don't have time to put up with you." The truth of it was, she'd been putting up with him all day.

"If you have not time for me, then why have you taken such great care to explain the inner workings of the Avengers compound to me?" he teased. In reality, he could tell that she enjoyed explaining things. It was almost as if she'd had no one else to listen to her until now. "And why do you begin to smile whenever I speak to you?"

"I do not." Camille painted a tight frown across her lovely features.

Loki's grin widened. "You care for me."

"Shut up," she scowled. "And go refill my mug." She shoved the empty mug at him.

"Yes, my _love_ ," Loki teased her, rising from the sofa with her favorite mug grasped firmly in his hands. Careful, now. "Of _course_ , my love. Anything for _you_ , my love."

The glimmer of a smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

He went to get more tea.

When Loki returned, he set two mugs of Earl Grey on the coffee table. Rather than lounging back against the stack of throw pillows he'd collected while Camille was on the phone, Loki sat beside her. He let himself think it.

Thor believed in him.

"YOU ARE NOT MY BROTHER," Thor said to him, holding the ends of Loki's chains as his sentencing was administered. Then, looking into Loki's eyes, Thor added, for only Loki to hear, "You are so much more than blood to me, dear brother. I love you so, and I believe in your ability to change. You can morph yourself into any facade you wish, Loki, but now, it is time to change the facade of your heart."

With that, they'd vanished, away from Asgard and its prisons, away from Thor's impending coronation and Loki's impending imprisonment.

Loki looked at the woman before him now. She, too, had a facade around her heart. Pain recognizes pain, he mused, Maybe he was supposed to be the one to believe in her.

"Hey, Tiffany, check this out." Natasha unburied herself from a trove of Stark tech just enough for Tiffany to see the screen in question. "Seems like your sister has something in common with Casanova."

"Lothario," Tiffany corrected her.

"Lothario," Natasha shrugged. "They both worked for Wassermedien."

Tiffany nodded. "I knew they worked for the same company. It's a media company, right?"

"Yep. But look who _else_ worked for Wassermedien."

The face on the screen belonged to a younger, brighter Brock Rumlow.

 _Vice President of Human Resources._

Tiffany shrugged her shoulders impatiently. "Who's that?"

Natasha clicked a few keys, transforming his picture into his more infamous facade- Crossbones.

"Don't let Wanda know," was Tiffany's immediate reaction.

Natasha nodded. "Protect the kids." _Always_ protect the kids. "So, before he got himself blown up, twice, Rumlow worked SHIELD in the Triskelion. According to my research, he was recruited to SHIELD from Wassermedien. Almost like they were grooming him to be an agent."

"Almost like they were grooming him to take on SHIELD from the inside," Tiffany furthered.

Natasha nodded. "Wassermedien is German. It means- get this- 'Water Media.' That could easily be retranslated as…" She dropped her voice to a whisper. "Hydra Media."

"What?" Tiffany exclaimed.

"Shhh!" Natasha reminded her. Once Tiffany was quiet again, Natasha continued, "Before he went to work for Wassermedien, Rumlow had a wife and a kid. When he tried to take a job with CNN, they offed his wife and kid."

"And he turned evil?" Tiffany asked.

Natasha shook her head. "No, he remembered. Brock Rumlow was a Winter Soldier."

"But Camille didn't die in the 1940s," Tiffany shook her head. "She was born in the nineties. I know. I was there."

Natasha smirked. "Not her, maybe. But how much did she _really_ know about Lothario?"

Tiffany froze. Natasha glanced back to make sure she was still breathing.

"My theory is that he lured her into joining Wassermedien," Natasha presented her conclusion. "You said he was rich, right? And her first real relationship."

"But Camille isn't like that," Tiffany shook her head. "She wouldn't change absolutely everything about herself for some guy-"

"We all do crazy things when we're in love," Natasha cut her off. "Speaking of which, Captain Casanova is standing right outside my door working up the nerve to knock and talk to you."

"How do you know that?" Tiffany whispered.

Natasha smirked once more. "Can't you hear him pacing?"

Steve walked in circles just outside Natasha's door. Tiffany was in there. Tiffany would know what to do. Tiffany always knew what to do…

She opened the door as he lifted his hand to knock.

"I need your help," he blurted out. "It's Bucky. I don't know what's wrong with him!"

As if on cue, his best friend barrelled down the hall in full Winter Soldier mode. Tiffany screamed when he tackled Steve to the floor.

"Bucky!" she yelled. "Bucky! Calm down! This is not who you are anymore!"

Loki's laughter echoed down the hall. "Where is your Hulk, Avengers? Perhaps he can tame your wild beast!"

"Loki, shut up!" Camille bellowed, chasing him down the hall.

"Do it!" Loki demanded, stopping between her and the Bucky/Steve tumble.

"Do what?" Tiffany yelled.

"Don't. You. Dare. Hurt. My. Bucky!" Steve called out as he struggled to contain his best friend and sparring partner.

"It would be in everyone's best interest if you were to do it," Loki teased, his eyes glimmering at Camille. Steve managed to sneak in a kick to Loki's ankles.

"Do what?" Steve growled. "What can she do to stop this?" He would like to see her try. Only Steve could stop Bucky.

"Do it now, my love!" Loki insisted, stepping aside so that Camille had a front row view of the scuffle.

With one last glare at Loki, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

"SPUTNIK!"

Bucky fell unconscious in Steve's arms.

Shoving Loki out of her way, Camille dropped to her knees beside the boys. She cradled Bucky's head in her lap as Tiffany ran to get the first aid kit.

"I am so sorry, Bucky. I am so, so sorry."

She ran her fingers through his hair as she whispered apologies to him, over and over and over. She planted a kiss on his forehead. "Wake up, Bucky. Please be okay. I am so, so sorry."

His eyes fluttered open when Tiffany pressed an icepack to his forehead. "Well, hello there."

Steve collapsed his head against Tiffany's shoulders.

Everything would be okay.

Back to the Bucky Barnes Steve had always known, he cocked his head to show off his self-proclaimed "good side." He smiled at Camille."Nice to see you finally coming around, doll."

Bucky's head clattered to the ground as Loki suddenly yanked Camille to her feet.

"BROTHER!" Thor boomed from behind them, jerking Loki to the side of the scene of the crime. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE NOW, BROTHER?"

Steve sat up slowly, leaning on Tiffany for support. _If only we didn't have to be like this._ "He set Bucky off. He must've learned the code."

"AND HOW DID YOU PLAN TO CEASE THE ATTACK, BROTHER?" Thor thundered, holding Loki's arms behind his back.

Loki grinned at Camille. "She knew what to do."

"DO NOT TEST ME, TRICKSTER."

Loki grinned even wider. "I knew that our dear little Camille would know what to do."

"AND HOW DID YOU COME UPON SUCH INFORMATION?"

Steve glanced at Bucky, who moaned as Tiffany bandaged the ice pack to his forehead. How could someone have possibly known how to stop him?

"She and I are cut from the same cloth," Loki replied cooly. "And she and Barnes are stitched together with the same thread."

With that, the trickster disappeared.

Thor grabbed Camille by the shoulders and pressed her against the wall. "WHAT EVIL MAGIC ARE YOU, WICKED WOMAN, THAT WOULD TURN MY PRECIOUS BROTHER BACK TO HIS MISCHIEVOUS WAYS?"

When she didn't answer, he raised her from the ground and shook her. No one was going to paint his dear brother's delicate heart black again.

"Thor! Put my sister down!" Tiffany declared from her spot on the floor.

Thor smiled at her. She was so small and endearing.

"Thor!" Tiffany jumped to her feet. Hands on her hips, she repeated. "Put my sister down."

"SHE WILL PAY FOR HER CRIMES."

"Put my sister down…" Tiffany took a deep breath. "Or our dinner tomorrow night is off."

Thor considered.

He set Camille gently on the ground.

"Thank you," Camille huffed, straightening her blouse. "If you do that again, I will have you kicked off of this team faster than you can say _bilgesnipe._ " She returned to her sister's side. "Now, Thor, I believe it was _Loki_ who put everyone in danger and _I_ who saved the day."

"I'm not dangerous." From his crumpled position on the floor, Barnes was anything but the dangerous warrior the others made him out to be. He glanced from Camille to Tiffany to the Captain. "We're broken."

With a deep breath, Camille took her spot next to Barnes on the floor. "I know, Bucky. I know."

Thor was still not satisfied. "EXPLAIN YOURSELF, MAIDEN."

"It's just like Loki said," she shrugged. "Bucky and I are stitched together with the same thread."

"What was that back there?" Steve whispered to Tiffany as they hobbled back to his apartment, Bucky slung between them.

"I'm first aid certified on five different continents," Tiffany shrugged. "Darn Australia."

"No, what you said," Steve ventured. "About dinner with Thor tomorrow?"

Tiffany merely shrugged again. She didn't owe him anything, right?

"Tiffany, what you said about-"

"I know what I said," Tiffany replied evenly. "But I don't believe this is the time nor place to be discussing this."

"Well, I just wanted you to know that Thor-"

"Is a really great guy once you get past all the _hrr_ and _grr_ ," Bucky cut in. He shot Steve a look that read, _Play it cool_.

Tiffany couldn't help but laugh. "Well, he'd better be. I think he and I and Loki and Camille need to meet together so that we can discuss, well, what's next."

"Don't hurt her," Bucky said softly.

"Huh?" Tiffany asked gently.

He shook his head. "Don't hurt her. Just…. Promise me. Don't hurt her."

"Of course," Tiffany replied. What the heck? Did she really come across as that bad of a sister? "I would never hurt Camille!"

Bucky nodded. "Thank you."

It was time to get back to Natasha….

"You leaked all those Hydra files."

Arms crossed, Tiffany pushed open Natasha's apartment door.

Did no one respect _Do Not Disturb_ anymore?

"Yes, I did."

"Go through them. Find out what Loki meant. Now."

"Excuse me?" Natasha spun around in her desk chair. Who did this little girl think she was to boss Natasha around?

"I'm your manager." Tiffany was direct, firm. "And this is how I choose to manage this situation. Camille is the most important thing in the world to me. So find out what Loki meant."

"There are literally hundreds of thousands of files," Natasha stated coldly. "Not even I can get through them without wasting years of my life."

Tiffany wasn't backing down. "Make it happen."

Natasha smiled. "I like your _hutzpah,_ kid. Clint!"

On cue, Hawkeye popped out of the ceiling vent on a bungee cord. "You rang?"

"Get our science guys. We're going to be up all night."

The Kayvengers (Stark's idea) were still working when Tiffany met the trio of trouble for dinner the next evening. Pushing her concerns about what Tony, Bruce, Natasha, Vision, Rhodey, Sam, and Clint might find, Tiffany plastered a smile in her face and took her seat next to Thor.

Camille sat comfortably with Loki's arm around her shoulders. "I didn't make dinner," she shrugged. "We're eating leftovers of whatever Vision made for dinner last night."

Thor unabashedly scooped his hands into a bowl of pasta salad. "THESE TINY WET GRAINS ARE MOST DELIGHTFUL."

Loki stirred the lone cup of black coffee he'd chosen for dinner with his plastic spoon. "My apologies for stepping in on your special evening, dear brother."

"SPECIAL EVENING?" Tiffany watched the enormous caterpillars that Thor called his eyebrows knit themselves into a knot. "I ASSURE YOU, LOKI. I CALLED THIS MEETING FOR BUSINESS AND NOT PLEASURE."

Tiffany choked back an unexpected sob. Camille reached for her hand under the table. Something had changed in her eyes. She mouthed, _Steve is cuter_ with a comical shrug.

Tiffany laughed. Camille was right. She was almost happy, too, as she leaned back against Loki's arm. _What in Valhalla did I miss there?_

"I CALLED THIS MEETING TO DISCUSS YOUR SENTENCING WITH THE DEAR LADY KAYLA," Thor declared.

 _Go figure,_ Tiffany rolled her eyes. Thor only seemed concerned for his brother. Then again, Tiffany remembered how long and how often she'd only been concerned for her sister. Before meeting Steve, Camille was the _only_ priority in Tiffany's life.

Was there room for more?

Maybe she was fighting to uncover her sister's secrets so that she could fix her problems for her. Maybe she was just trying to protect her. Maybe she was afraid.

Tiffany didn't really know why she was doing it, but she knew that both of them had suffered long enough.

"Oh, speaking of Tiffany," Camille paused to take a long gulp of tea. All eyes on her, just like Tiffany had watched her do in important business meetings. "Tiffany, I've been meaning to tell you. Lothario and I booked a ski weekend in Moscow with some friends for a few weeks from now. Since I obviously can't go, you and Steve should take it."

"What kind of friends?" Tiffany asked carefully.

"Oh, you know," Camille shrugged. "James and Taylor. Logan and Mackenzie. Castle and Beckett. The Hofstadters. The PenaVegas. I think you'd be rooming with my friend Mindy, actually."

"Well, if you put it that way," Tiffany couldn't hold back a smile. Camille had just so happened to rattle off a list of her favorite actors, singers, scientists, and writers, who, of course, happened to be her friends. She took a drink of water, a power move that Camille taught her for making negotiations. "Are you sure that it won't, you know… Hurt you?"

Camille shrugged it off. "If Lothario and I can't enjoy it, then you definitely should."

"Who is this _Lothario_ you speak of?" Loki seethed.

Camille laughed, "I told you about him, remember? Big, tall guy? Blonde hair? Engagement ring?"

Loki nodded slowly. "The dead man."

"Yeah, him." She changed the subject quickly and smoothly. "So, Thor, I was talking to Loki last night, and I think it would be best if he carried out his sentence here. On earth."

"FROM WHAT THREAD ARE YOU WOVEN, LADY?" Thor demanded.

"What a lovely display of subtlety," Loki remarked. "And it was cloth. We are cut from the same cloth- ice."

Camille glared at him. She looked at Tiffany. She was afraid.

"Loki, shut up," she demanded.

"Yes, love," Loki nodded. Then, he smiled at Tiffany. "You should be very afraid." He smiled at Thor. "All of you should be very afraid."

"Loki, shut up!" Camille screamed.

He was silent.

Tiffany glanced at the door, wondering what her Kayvengers had found….

"Uhh, Nat…" Clint glanced from his computer screen to his best friend and back. He shook his head, not believing what he'd seen. "I think you need to see this."

"What, Clint?" she griped, hopping over Banner and his stack of printed files (he was old-fashioned like that, apparently; and he owed Clint a new ink cartridge). Perching herself on the edge of the computer desk, Natasha read the screen in front of them.

HEADQUARTERS

WASSERMEDIEN AMERICAN BRANCH

Office of Recruitment

DATE: 2016 July 31

SUBJECT: WINTER SOLDIER PROJECT OVERHAUL

TO: COMMANDING OFFICER LOTHARIO MARCHELLO

COMMANDING OFFICER BROCK RUMLOW

The SUBJECT #31716 has been contained in Moscow.

The SUBJECT #31716 was admitted to the program 1 July 2016.

The SUBJECT #31716 completed the program 31 July 2016.

COMMANDING OFFICER LOTHARIO MARCHELLO is to oversee the SUBJECT #31716 upon return to New York City 5 August 2016.

The SUBJECT #31716 has agreed to all terms. Violation of contract will result in termination of KAYLA HARRIS.

HAIL HYDRA

Wilfred Stucker

Major General US Army

Manager of Recruitment

"What the…" Natasha trailed off, her cold facade almost slipping. "Clint, where did you find this?"

He shrugged. "I was rifling through some of the more stupid-looking files to pass the time. This one was in a file marked 'Pepe's.' That's my favorite meme, so I clicked it."

"CLINT!" Natasha yelled. Every eye in the room turned to face her. "We need to go get Tiffany. _Now_."

"I'm on it," Clint nodded, strapping on his bungee cord and bouncing back inside the ceiling tiles.

"Hey, Tiffany, don't scream," Clint whispered as he put his hand over Tiffany's mouth, wrapping his other arm around her as he pulled her up, up, up.

Before she knew what was happening, Tiffany was crawling through the ceiling vents behind Clint Barton. "What is going on?" she demanded.

"Shh!" he reminded her. "I'll tell you when we get back to Nat."

"Nat?" Tiffany felt her heart stop. What had they found?

"Here, jump right down through here," Clint instructed, pushing aside a ceiling tile.

"Jump?" Was he crazy?

Rather than answer, Clint ever so swiftly shoved her down the hole, _Alice in Wonderland_ style.

Tiffany landed on her knees, but what really hurt was what she saw on the screen that Nat directed her to.

Camille was a Winter Soldier.

"We need to get Camille!" Tiffany yelled, rushing into the training room in the middle of Steve's evening workout.

"Camille? I thought she was with you and Thor," Steve grumbled, lifting a 200 pound weight with one arm.

"Now!" Tiffany ran across the gym and grabbed his empty hand.

Abandoning his dumbbell in the middle of the gym floor, Steve leapt to action. She was scared. The woman he loved was scared, and he would do _anything_ to make sure that she was safe again. "What's going on?" he asked, nearly dragging Tiffany on his mad rush to the sisters' shared apartment.

"Clint and Natasha found a mission report in the Hydra files!" Tiffany bravely held back tears in the face of her greatest fears. "Her dead fiance turned her into a Winter Soldier during the only time in our lives that we weren't talking!"

Bucky ran in front of them before they could make the turn into the girls' hallway. "Steve, don't go down that hall."

"Move, Buck!" Steve demanded, but Bucky reached out an arm to stop him.

"Get out of here, Steve. Get yourself, Tiffany, and me out of here _right now_."

"Now is not the time to be selfish!" How could he?!

"Now is not the time to play hero!"

Bucky's argument was punctuated with a shot that barely grazed his ear. From the end of the hallway came the unmistakable footsteps of soldiers.

Winter Soldiers.

"MOVE!" Bucky screamed, grabbing Tiffany as he hit the floor.

"STEVE!" Tiffany yelled, lurching forward as a bullet hit his shoulder.

"Tiffany, no." Steve hit the ground. He clutched his shoulder. He couldn't remember ever feeling this much _pain_. His voice was barely a crackle. "Buck, get her out of here."

As hard as Bucky tried to hold her back, Tiffany knew her sparring partner's weaknesses well enough to escape his grasp just in time to duck past a stream of Hydra soldiers and down the hall.

Bucky dragged Steve against the wall before darting after Tiffany. He chased her all the way down the hall, to her apartment, and into Camille's room.

Drawers were ripped open. Clothes were strewn across the floor. Books spilled from the toppled bookshelf. Camille's favorite mug lay broken on the bedroom floor.

Tiffany sunk down onto the edge of the bed. "She's… gone."

Thor burst into the room, pushing Bucky out of the doorway. "WHERE IS LOKI?"

Tiffany and Bucky locked eyes.

"WHERE IS THE EVIL WOMAN?"

Catching sight of a crumpled ball of paper on the floor, Bucky unfolded the note and read it outloud.

Tiffany, I'm so sorry. I love you. Please know that I did it to protect you. If you love me, don't read anymore of the files, because you won't love me when you're done. To the moon and back. -K

Thor- Goodbye, dear brother. I had to do it. Please know that I've changed. All my heart to you, L

"They… left." Tiffany couldn't stop her tears now. "Together."

"HEIM-"

"Thor, no," Bucky cut him off. "Trust me. I know these people better than you do. We need to get Steve and get out of here."

When Bucky grabbed Tiffany and finally made it back to Steve, the most important person in all the world was covered in blood.

Steve took Tiffany's hand in his. "I trained you." He coughed more blood. "It's your turn to be the hero now."

"Steve, I…" Bucky bit back a sarcastic remark when Tiffany kissed Steve, light as a feather.

His bloody lips quirked into a sort-of-smile. More shots rang out above them. "If we survive this, will you marry me?"

"Only if my sister gets to be the maid of honor."

 _Wanting_

The whisper caught Camille off guard. "Clint, is this a joke?" she called out as Hawkeye took her sister up into one of his bird tunnels.

 _Shattered._

"Loki, is that you playing another trick?"

He shook his head.

 _Nineteen._

Camille's heart stopped. She hadn't heard these words in so long….

 _Midnight._

If it was Loki, she would kill him. Everything she told him last night, or rather, everything he _extracted_ from her mind-soup with one of his charms (namely, a sweet smile and a TARDIS mug of Earl Grey tea), he promised that he wouldn't use it against her.

In fact, she'd promised the same to him. They were two broken things, right? Two puzzles pieces that kind of fit together. He said they were in this together, because he had _changed…_

Had she been so stupid as to fall for another lying, manipulative evildoer?

 _Bonfire._

"Loki, tell me that's not you."

 _Five._

"It's not me, my love."

He pressed his forehead against hers. He told her last night that he could read her thoughts that way. Empathy, he called it.

 _Prom._

"Thor, if you'll excuse us, I think Camille and I shall go enjoy a cup of tea on the balcony. She is feeling ill." His silver tongue whispered a silver lie.

 _Three._

She and Loki ran to her apartment. Once safely behind her bedroom doors, they tore open drawers to shove just what she would need into a bag. Loki bumped into the bookshelf, sending her favorite mug careening to the floor.

When it cracked, so did her heart.

"Time to keep your end of the promise, Trickster," she said. "I kept you out of prison. Now you get me out of here."

Loki put his arm around her, anchoring her.

"Where to, my love?"

 _Aeroplane._

"Anywhere but here."

With one last glance at Steve, Tiffany ran back down the hallway. _What am I getting myself into?_

Where was Camille? What was _she_ getting herself into?

Loki was a liar and a trickster and a fugitive and a _murderer._ He was a _mass murderer._ Sure, Thor could explain it all away with "mind control" and "severe depression," but Tiffany only cared about her sister's safety right now. She knew that Camille dealt with her issues by running away from them. Had she seen Loki as her only way out?

 _What should I do next_? Tiffany wondered. Bucky was with Steve, dragging him to the ER. All of the other Avengers appeared to have evacuated. It was down to Tiffany, her heart, her brain, and...  
"LADY KAYLA!" Thor stopped her with a strong arm on her shoulder. "YOU MUST ACCOMPANY ME TO ASGARD AT ONCE."

"Thor!" Tiffany yelled back. "I don't have time to deal with your crap right now!"

He struck a princely pose, but his expression was pained. "LOKI HAS RETURNED TO ASGARD. I FEEL IT IN MY BONES."

"And he took Camille with him?" Tiffany stepped back, skeptical. She'd been a lot of places, but leaving earth wasn't exactly on her bucket list.

Thor leveled an even gaze upon her. "LOKI WAS TO CARRY OUT HIS EXILE HERE. ACCORDING TO THE PLANS AGREED UPON AMONGST MYSELF, THE ALLFATHER, THE SON OF COUL, AND LADY KRISTEN, LOKI WOULD BE REHABILITATED TO LIFE ON MIDGARD AND THEN CARRY OUT THE LIFE OF A MORTAL WHEN I RETURNED TO ASGARD TO SERVE AS KING. IF HE FAILED, HE WOULD BE RETURNED IMMEDIATELY TO ASGARD AND TO PRISON."

"And what does this have to do with my sister?" Tiffany demanded. Again, she _really_ didn't have time to deal with his crap…

"MY BROTHER GREW RATHER FOND OF YOUR SISTER RATHER QUICKLY," Thor explained. "I BELIEVE IT HAD BECOME HIS PLAN TO CARRY OUT A LIFE ON MIDGARD WITH HER."

"Why the heck would he do that?" Tiffany grew more impatient with each ridiculous notion Thor presented.

"THEY HAD A VERY THOROUGH CONVERSATION OVER TEA," Thor answered. "HEIMDALL INFORMED ME OF SUCH. LOKI BELIEVED THEM BOTH TO BE EVILDOERS IN SEARCH OF RETRIBUTION. HE ALSO BELIEVED THEM BOTH TO BE VICTIMS OF THE MANIPULATION OF THOSE MORE POWERFUL THAN THEMSELVES."

Tiffany forced her face to stay stoic. "He was right." She took a deep breath. "Natasha found Hydra files that said my sister was turned into some new form of Winter Soldier."

Thor held out a hand to Tiffany. "To Asgard?"

She grabbed onto his arm and held on for dear life.

When Tiffany opened her eyes, she was in the most beautiful place she'd ever seen.

Towers of gold grew towards the sky like sunbeams longing to return home. Diamonds glinted from the streets, littered like pebbles. Warriors and royalty strode through the city as if they had sprung from the glorious architecture.

With no time to spare, Thor threw Tiffany over his shoulder and bulldozed his way to the palace. Tiffany clutched handfuls of his supermodel-worthy locks as she bounced on his shoulder. Finally, they thundered inside the hallowed halls and straight to the throne room.

"FATHER!" Thor roared, refusing to kneel before his king. He set Tiffany down beside himself, standing partially between her and Odin, an eclipse of wonder and terror.

"My son!" the old man beamed. When Tiffany looked at him, she saw nothing of the brave and wonderful Thor she so admired. "What brings you here, dear child?"

"WHERE IS LOKI?" Thor demanded, his eyes narrowed and fierce. He was all warrior and all heart, not a trace of the realm's passively hard handed ruler within him. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH LOKI AND HIS PARAMOUR?"

The Allfather chuckled, an old man's giggles over a worn-out joke. "Do not be foolish, dear child. The criminal has been returned to the only place he belongs- the dungeon. As for the woman, she will spend the rest of her days in service of Asgard."

"What have you done with my sister?" Tiffany stepped forward, hands planted on her hips. Confrontation was not usually her style, but this was _Camille_ she was talking about!

"By bilgesnipes, there's two of them!" Odin laughed. Thor groaned threateningly. Clearing his throat, Odin continued, "The one whom Loki simply calls 'Elskan' has been sentenced to a lifetime of service to the Allfather as a servant in the dungeons." He cleared his throat once more. "I believe I have been kind."

"Kind?" Tiffany sneered. "Kind?! You forced an innocent woman to be a servant for your prisoners!"

"I WAS KIND TO NOT SEND THE ILLEGAL ENTRANT STRAIGHT TO EXILE!" Odin roared. Okay, _now_ Tiffany saw a little bit of Thor in him. "THE MAID ELSKAN ACCOMPANIED A PRISONER INTO THIS REALM. SHE HAS NO STANDING HERE."

Before Tiffany could press his father forward, Thor stepped between them once more. Voice even and kingly, he stated, "FATHER, WE WISH TO VISIT LOKI IN THE DUNGEONS."

"You are the Odinson," the Allfather replied. "You are allowed entry to the dungeon whenever you wish."

Thor took Tiffany by the hand and led her into the depths of Asgard.

"And with a force powerful enough to knock the Nine Realms out of orbit, Bjorn flung the Berserker into the atmosphere, where it flew straight into the heart of a dying star," Loki read aloud, turning the page with the showmanship only an illusionist could muster.

"I was not expecting that."

He smiled as the sound of her voice pierced the glass she polished. Elskan. _My love._

"Yes, my love. No one ever does," he answered, lounging against the glass wall of his cell. _Prison, sweet prison._ "When I first read _The Undeniable Bravery of Bjorn,_ I fully expected Bjorn himself to become the Berserker."

"Certainly not Astra," she replied, wiping one of her own fingerprints from the glass right by his head. "I'm certainly glad you didn't fling me into the atmosphere when I went all Berserker on you."

Loki smiled a small smile. They'd left Midgard in order to protect their loved ones from her Hydra-induced fit of rage. Loki knew all too well the pain of mind control. Losing oneself was the most painful thing of all.

At least, he mused, here, they could be together, if only for a few minutes a day. Yes, he was in a cell, but he was safe, and she was safe, and she was near him. She brought laundry down this hall to fold. She spent extra time cleaning the glass on the surrounding cells. She personally tidied his cell. She was even granted occasional visitation, as long as they both kept on good terms with the guards.

It had been a good few turns around the moon, he added to himself. He wondered how the events on Midgard may have transpired. Time passed differently here than it did down there. He trusted Thor to take care of things, regardless.

He'd done what he had gone to Midgard to do. Loki changed.

"Well?" Camille quipped, tapping on the glass.

"Well?" Loki turned around to face her, pressing his nose against the glass. "You are resplendent, my love, even in the simple garments of a maid." If he could make her a queen, he would ensure that she only had the finest of everything, gowns included. He sighed. At least she was safe now.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Trickster," she teased, swatting her rag at the glass wall that separated them. "Well, are you going to continue the story?"

"Ah, yes, the story," Loki sighed, stretching his arms above his head as if he'd forgotten all about it. "One day, Elskan, perhaps I shall write us a story of our own."

"I would like to see you try," she teased again. "Perhaps we can write it together."

Loki smiled. Even if his physical presence was trapped to rot in this cell, at least his heart was free. He pressed his lips to the glass, and she stooped to meet them with her own reflection.

"BROTHER, WHAT HAS POSSESSED YOU TO RETURN TO THIS STATE?" Thor's thundering voice shook the glass between their lips.

Loki rose to his feet, still pressing his hand against the glass opposite hers. "Thor! What a lovely surprise!"

His eyes darted to Lady Tiffany as she took in the scene before them. Surely, the sight of her sister dressed as a maid, washing the cell walls of hardened criminals, was less than ideal. And Loki, with unkempt hair grown past his shoulders and a prisoner's breachers and shirt, was not the kind of suitor she had in mind.

"And Lady Tiffany! How kind of you to come along!"

Camille abandoned her spot beside Loki to rush into her sister's arms. "Tiffany! I'm so sorry I had to leave. I never thought I'd see you again!"

"I'm here now," Tiffany assured her, holding onto Camille as if she would never let her go again. "I'm here now, and I'm here to take you home!"

Loki's already broken heart shattered into a thousand more pieces.

Camille sniffled.

"Tiffany, I love you, and I'm so sorry, but you can't do that."

"What?" Tiffany let go of her sister, stepping back to look her in the eye. "Why can't I take you home? You can't stay here, as Odin's slave!"

With a shrug, Camille held out her left arm. She rolled up the sleeve, revealing an engraved golden band that pinched into the skin of her forearm. "Only a king can remove it, and if it leaves Asgard…. BOOM."

Loki ventured forward, pressing both hands against the front panel of the glass. "He allowed her to stay here as a last favor to our late mother. It was among her last wishes that Odin look out for my welfare as well as Thor's, and, well…" He chuckled nervously. "I am no longer alone."

"I don't care about _you_!" Tiffany stood face-to-face with Loki. "You evil, manipulative-"

"Tiffany, he saved my life," Camille cut in, leaning back against the glass. "He saved everyone's lives, actually. I'm sure you know by now, but Hydra had a trigger on that file you opened. When they came for me, they set me off so that I could wipe everyone out and protect their precious secrets."

"And what did he do?" Tiffany demanded.

"He knew my safeword," Camille smiled.

"Which was what?" Tiffany crossed her arms.

"Tiffany."

"What?"

"It was Tiffany," Camille explained, pulling her sister back into her arms. "They programed it so that it would remind me of my ultimatum. If I failed them, then I failed you."

"How long have you been here?" Tiffany asked.

"A few months, I think," Camille answered. "Time works differently here. But funny enough, for the first time in a long time, I don't feel so afraid."

"Then come home," Tiffany whimpered. "I need you, Camille."

Esklan took a deep breath. "I need you, too, Tiffany. But I need you safe. And if I'm on earth, then no one is safe."

"What does that even mean?"

"Tiffany, I'm a Winter Soldier," Camille sighed. "I won't age like you do. I won't _die_ like you do. We'll just be Steve and Bucky all over again. At least when I'm with him, I won't have to be alone. And you won't be in danger."

"Won't Hydra just come looking for you?" Tiffany asked.

Camille shook her head. "I was a part of their circuit. The new Winter Soldiers are rewired, not brainwashed. We only work when all the pieces are in place. So, as long as I'm on Asgard, they're all safe."

"Thor could free her, though," Loki chimed in, not wanting to appear useless. "If he were king, then he could free her."

All eyes turned to the Odinson.

"IT IS TRUE," Thor assured them. "WERE I TO BE KING, I COULD RELEASE BOTH LADY KRISTEN AND MY DEAR BROTHER. I WOULD HAVE THE POWER TO COMMAND HEALERS TO AMEND HER AILMENTS AS WELL."

Tiffany look up at Thor with the last lights of hope glimmering in her eyes. Loki knew that to ask this of Thor was to ask him to give up everything that he held dear- Midgard, the Avengers, Jane Foster, and his special relationship with their father.

Without hesitation, Thor decided, " I WILL DO IT."

When Tiffany was beamed back to earth, a full two weeks had gone by. She was angry and worried and terrified, but someone had to get the Avengers back in order.

Also, Thor promised to have everything put in order on Asgard by the time Tiffany's wedding came around, so at least she had that to worry about, too.

As the sole leader of the Avengers, Tiffany decided to finish the good work that her sister had started. She collected the teammates and their families from the scattered corners of the globe. After a long family meeting, she brought everyone in on the situation at hand.

Slowly but surely, the Kayvengers unraveled the true tale of Camille, Wassermedien, and the Winter Soldier Project. It told a story of love, loss, revenge, fear, adventure- everything that made Hollywood what it was.

Phil Coulson finally brought the truth to light one bright Tuesday afternoon. "Hello!" he greeted Tiffany at the door with an official-looking clipboard and a pitcher of fresh lemonade. "Mind if I come in?"

She shook her head, leading him back to her empty apartment so that they could talk privately. "Are you finally here to ask about Camille?" she asked, pulling out a pair of plastic orange tumblers for the lemonade.

Director Coulson took a deep breath. "Agent Mackenzi was a very valuable member of a very highly classified division of SHIELD." He slid onto a barstool, proffering a package of cookies from his coat pocket. "Oreo?"

"What?" The lemonade nearly fell from Tiffany's hand. All this time…. And still more lies?

"Please, have a seat." He waited until she appeared comfortable. Finally, he continued. "Agent Mackenzi was indeed a Hydra super soldier. However, as SHIELD sorted through the files leaked from the Triskelion, we found quite a few detailed files on her various crimes. We brought her in quickly but quietly, because this dealt with a lot of highly classified international government secrets. That's very dangerous."

Tiffany nodded. Of course it was dangerous. She wasn't stupid.

"When we threatened to prosecute your sister, she instead decided to tell us everything that she knew and then prosecute _us_ for not doing anything about it yet."

"Of course she did." Tiffany smiled. Camille would never have let Hydra just get away with everything that they did to her- did to them.

"So, we made her a deal. We wouldn't prosecute her as long as she worked with us," Coulson carried on. "She joined our, again, very highly classified, HYDRA Task Force. It consisted of myself, Agent Mackenzi, Agent Melinda May, and Agent Bobbi Morse.

"Camille was our way in. But the only way that we could get her out where we could watch her without Hydra finding out and killing her was to get her commanding officer out of the picture."

"So, _you_ killed Lothario," Tiffany shook her head.

"Technically, _she_ killed Lothario," Coulson corrected her. "We supplied a poison that she slipped into his last meal. I believe she fired a few rounds into his chest for good measure."

Camille wasn't a killer. She must have truly been afraid for her life.

 _And my life,_ Tiffany thought, remembering the file she'd read all those months ago.

"Hydra wanted the Avengers more than anything. So we sent Agent Mackenzi undercover as one of our agents undercover as one of _their_ agents undercover as one of our agents to gather intel.

"She gathered harmless bits of intel to feed back to her employers, and then she gave us whatever they told her. Pretty brilliant, right?"

"More like pretty dangerous," Tiffany remarked. That must have been why Camille was always on the phone… "And when Loki figured it all out, they had to get away?"

Coulson nodded. "When you figured it out, she had to get away."

"And now?" Tiffany ventured, hoping for the best but bracing herself for the worst.

"The threat has been neutralized," Coulson explained. "Partially."

"Partially?"

"We've captured the remaining Winter Soldiers, but the imminent threat of Hydra is still out there. And that brings me to the real reason I came today."

"What's that?" Tiffany scowled. What mattered besides getting her sister back?

"You and Captain Rogers," Coulson smiled. "And the Kayvengers, as Stark tells me. You intercepted the threat. You cracked files that our top agents couldn't get open. You stopped Hydra, even if it's only for a little while."

"Yeah," Tiffany nodded. "I guess we did. But for now, we're just…."

"Waiting for the next opportunity," Coulson finished for her. "Tiffany, I'd like to formally welcome you to SHIELD." He presented her with a shiny silver medallion in a fancy leather case. "From now on, you will be the head of the Hydra Task Force, alongside Captain Rogers. You will be joined by Agent Romanoff, Agent Barton, Sam Wilson, Dr. Banner, and Mr. Stark."

"What about the others?" Tiffany pressed. "What about Rhodey and Wanda and Scott and Peter and Vision and T'Challa?"

"Scott Lang, King T'Challa, and Peter Parker will return home to protect their respective neighborhoods," Coulson answered. "General Rhodes will become our director of arms, and Wanda Maximoff will be trained by Agent Daisy to be the next top agent."

Tiffany smiled. "I like the sound of that." Then, she added, "But what about Camille?"

"If Agent Mackenzi returns," Coulson began, "she can take up residency on the task force again, under the command of Agent and Captain Rogers."

 _If._

 _All of the best stories end with a wedding,_ Steve thought to himself, clasping his hands together as his army uniform pulled at his shoulders. All of the extra gym time spent to work off his nerves certainly hadn't been good for the reconstructed seam of his salvaged World War II uniform.

He glanced behind himself, making eye contact with his best friend in the entire world. _We've made it,_ Bucky mouthed, flashing Steve one his infamous "I-knew-it-all-along" grins beneath the brim of his soldier's cap.

As the strains of the wedding march began to play, Steve returned his attention to the silken aisle weaving through the vineyard. Stark had purchased the old Italian vineyard just for the occasion, a wedding gift to Tiffany as soon as the ceremony commenced. He glanced about nervously, anticipating the moment he'd been waiting more than seventy years for.

Steve Rogers finally found true love.

Finally, she appeared, a vision in vintage lace. Steve's face lit up with delight as his bride descended the aisle in a gown reminiscent of the ones he'd seen in photos of weddings from high school friends. It was all ivory and embroidery, small buttons leading down to the many layers of a skirt that looked like wedding cake. Steve tipped his hat towards his best girl, wiping a single tear from his eyes.

She was so, so beautiful.

As her father passed her hands from his arms into Steve's own, the Captain couldn't help but pull his bride into a sweet embrace. He understood the strain in her eyes. He wished that Camille could be here, too.

He never let go of her hands as Director Fury (naturally) led them in the sacred marriage vows.

 _To have and to hold…_

 _For better or worse…_

 _Til death do us part…._

"Speak now," Fury leveled a threatening gaze on Stark. "Or forever hold your peace."

"WAIT!"

A shrill cry echoed through the vineyard as a tiny lady in a crimson gown shot through the bushes and into the middle of the action. Huffing and puffing, Camille stopped in front of Tiffany and Steve. Her smile was the most brilliant thing he'd ever seen. "You can't get married without your maid of honor."

Letting go of Steve's hands, Tiffany pulled her sister into the hug of a lifetime. "You made it! You look beautiful! How did you get here?"

As if one cue, Loki ran huffing and puffing up beside her, balancing a brilliant crown upon his head. The deep emeralds of his suit clashed with hers, making them look like an overdone Christmas card.

"We're here," Camille huffed. "We made it. You look beautiful!" She hugged Tiffany one more time. "I'll explain later. Now get married!"

"You may now kiss the bride."

And kiss his bride Steve did.

As "I'm Only Me When I'm With You" began to play, Camille abandoned her second piece of cake to steal Tiffany away from her husband. "May I have this dance?" she joked, as Steve obligingly stepped aside so that the love of his life could dance with her very best friend.

"Congratulations!" Camille exclaimed, hugging her sister what must have been the millionth time that day.

"Thanks!" Tiffany smiled. "So, now, you're going to explain everything, right?"

"Of course," Camille nodded. "Well, long story short, Thor became king of Asgard, right? But if he has no royal heirs, then how can the line of royalty continue?

"As king, the first thing that Thor did was restore Loki as prince of Asgard and name me a lady of the palace, clearing away any of the wrongs we'd committed. The second thing he did as king was issue a royal decree that he would not marry a woman of Asgard."

"What did that mean?" Tiffany asked.

"He created a loophole to name another successor to the crown," Camille beamed. "And he chose Loki! You see, on Asgard, the crown is passed by choice, not necessarily by death or coming-of-age.

"Anyhow, Thor didn't want to be king. He quickly realized that he missed Midgard and Jane Foster and the Avengers. He'd rather be a warrior. However, when Loki was king, or at least pretending to be Odin being king, Thor said that the people of Asgard were as happy and prosperous as they'd ever been. Turns out, when he's not being a raving lunatic, Loki is a pretty great king!"

"Those who've suffered the worst become the strongest," Tiffany replied. "So, what's next?"

"Well, that's the major thing…" Camille took a deep breath. "I love you, Tiffany, I really do, but I also love Loki. And I love Asgard. And I love everything that I can become there.

"To be completely honest with you, Tiffany, I don't want to come back on Midgard. At least, not for a while. Not to stay, anyway. I have done so much damage here and made so many enemies. Even without Hydra controlling me, I am full of so many international secrets that it's dangerous for me to even be out in the open here."

"So, it's either live on Earth under lock and key," Tiffany sighed, "Or live free on Asgard."

Camille nodded.

"It's not even up for discussion, then?" Tiffany ventured.  
Camille set her hands on Tiffany's shoulders. "Listen, Tiffany, you've made your choice. I thought I was so sorry for dragging you into this underworld of politics and secrecy and all, but I think that, at the end of the day, it's what was best for you. They're all point-and-shooters here; they need you to influence peace, compromise, and the way they handle human rights.

"And, what's more, you've got Steve. He's worth ten thousand Tong Mus or Thors or any other guys you could possibly imagine. I always told you that you should never settle for anything less than Captain America. And you didn't disappoint."

"And what about you?" Tiffany asked, pulling Camille into another tight embrace. "What's next for you?"

Camille's once-stone face quirked into a smile. "Loki and I have decided to get married, actually. I'll stay on Asgard as queen. You're invited, of course, and anytime you want to see me, all you have to do is yell for Heimdall. I'll definitely be here a lot, too, though, because somebody has to help Thor protect Midgard, right?"

Tiffany couldn't help but smile.

"I'm with you…."

"...til the end of the line."

"...til the end of the line."


End file.
